Blog #18:Stuck in the Boom Boom Room

Okay we're taking a break in the horrible scary stories that surround my life experiences this week to talk about an album that was highly anticipated for months. Palaye Royale's "Boom Boom Room Side-B" is here folks! And it is nothing short of absolutely fabulous!!!!

I wanna preface this post with a little excerpt I took from wiki because I noticed some people's biggest complaint about the following album was that it was very short. 

The terms A-side and B-side refer to the two sides of 78, 45, and 33 1/3 rpm phonograph records, or cassettes, whether singles, extended plays (EPs), or long-playing (LP) records. The A-side usually featured the recording that the artist, record producer, or the record company intended to receive the initial promotional effort and then receive radio airplay, hopefully, to become a "hit" record. The B-side (or "flip-side") is a secondary recording that has a history of its own: some artists released B-sides that were considered as strong as the A-side and became hits in their own right. Others took the opposite approach: producer Phil Spector was in the habit of filling B-sides with on-the-spot instrumentals that no one would confuse with the A-side. With this practice, Spector was assured that airplay was focused on the side he wanted to be the hit side.

That being said, let me give you a little background on the boys. I'm new to the fandom, but am very familiar with their music (gosh I go digging when I find a band that just rocks though). Boom Boom Room Side B is the fifth, and latest edition to their discogs. The first slew of them being rather short but very beautiful EPs (extended plays) which is something usually 3-5 tracks long that isn't quite a single; one in 2012, two other in 2013, and then another in 2016 some years later. Finally working up to their Debut LP Boom Boom Room in June 2016.

It was fifteen glorious rock-felt, sex driven, powerfully written tracks that leaked gold. I don't know how anyone else feels about the album, but god this album is just pure sex. And yes, I love music that much. 

Leith's angsty tortured vocals and lyrics paired with the hints of classic rock legends make me think that rock is very much alive in the youth of our musicians. A lot of shit on the radio is garbage these days, and though I am not usually one to sit there and shit on someone's musical tastes, in my house we do not listen to the radio. It's awful (save for when Andy Black is hosting this or that--but even then I'd like to gouge my eyes out unless he plays a track or says something). I live how I want to. No radio in this house.

Now I said I was new to the fandom, but let me explain how fresh I am to this wonderful band's music. October last year, American Satan was released starring Andy Black. I took a Greyhound bus by myself to the Valley, two hours away to view this movie. WORTH IT. It was worth every second of anxiety, every fucking penny, and every set back. When I saw that movie I was completely in love. Andy did a wonderful job but honestly I never doubted his awkward beautiful ass, and Ben Bruce just blew me away. Not to mention all the other big names I could honestly go on and on about this movie....but that is for another post. The reason I bring it up is because that is when I was first introduced to Remington Leith's memorizing vocals.I HAD to have more, so naturally, the second I had a good internet connection I did some digging and--oh gosh, I am so SO glad I did. This band is wonderful, wise beyond their years, and truly talented. 

 Seeing them live is truly an experience, and meeting them at warped just proved they are as kind and down to Earth as they present themselves to be. Emerson (drummer), Sebastian (guitarist), and Remington (vocals) are some of the most hard working and dedicated artists that are out there. For example, recently they had a venue close due to issues with the building code. Not only did they relocate promptly and inform all of their fans with love, but they committed to meet ALL of them after the show. I don't know if ya'll can comprehend how MUCH work and LOVE goes into meeting 1500 fans AFTER performing, but wow. I have so much respect for them. Truly. 

That being said I'm down to Boom Boom Side B. An eight track B-side that is just so good I cannot stop listening to it. Oh gosh, I'm thirty years old (I mean 25 plus shipping and handling, clearly, heh.) and it took me back to high school. All those years feeling numb and alone and feeling like an audience member to my own eventual demise. It paints heartbreak and being pushed into that friend zone. It touches on losing friends/family and still going on. It touches on relationships and going crazy, and isn't that all just life? It sounds like the boys are growing up, and we have shared every step of the way. 

Some of the lyrics are super powerful and driven, they come from a very personal place that maybe we may never understand, but sure give us those feels. Eight artfully constructed tracks with beautiful music, eerie background sounds/vocals/noises/messages, and lyrics to relate to. I give this album a 100/10 and am looking at you like, "why haven't you gone to listen to this yet." No, but seriously, it is a good one. There was only one track that felt like elevator music to me, and oddly enough it WAS NOT the last track "The Boom". "The Boom" which (according to the Palaye Royale Twitter account) was beautifully played by Emerson. It was laid on top of an inspirational message that is a little distorted, so I can't wait for my physical copy to come via the mail so I can read what it might be. Sorry boys, my hearing is terrible in one ear from life on the road, you get it. I'm sure they get it. Anyways, from what I can gather of it it's very interesting and the music is relaxing. It's purely instrumental (obviously) or you wouldn't be able to hear the message (which I can't hear anyway) so it won't be everyone's thing--but it sure is mine. 

I didn't have the money to preorder the album and their wonderful items from their website Merch before it's release date (September 28, 2018), but it's fine. Barnes and Noble was carrying it for a good price, so I picked up a copy for my wall. My shit infested mountain town is apparently too good to have anything on it's release date, so unfortunately there are no physical copies in any of the stores here in Flagstaff, but honestly my hoighty toighty asshole neighbors can bite me because "Dying in a hot tub" has been on fucking repeat for two days and I have no fucking regrets.  

Thanks Spotify. Thanks boys. Cheers!

still have more planned too, no computer yet, but soon! If you blink youll miss it, so stay tuned!

Alright fam, 

Love YOU! Stay tight! Stay Real! Be YOU!

Welcome to the ghoul fam xo *~Danii_Grimm~*

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Blog #17: Real Life Ghost Stories Part II

Oh Jesus Christ look at that, it's the place I was held literal prisoner by a sociopath. WHEW.....okay hold on......Imma have to run a lap real quick because this got me feeling all sorts of nope but I'm going to go there though, because in this week's blog I have another chilling tale for you. No, I'm not ready yet to talk about the things that idiot loser did to me in the attic of that house, perhaps someday in my book--but not here. What I'm going to talk about here is this house, and why it is evil. This is an EVIL, EVIL house, and I am so glad that I escaped with my life. 

That being said, I would like to preface this wonderful story with the fact that I lived in this house for a year and a half. There is more evil in this house than anyone could begin to comprehend by just a glance; but there is more evil here, than the lurking spirits in the walls. This house, was owned by my torturers mother, who allowed the torturing to take place because she is crazy. They are all crazy, but that house has a way of making you mad, so perhaps they were once sane...that just doesn't seem to sit well with me. No, it is likely that house drew them because it feeds off crazy.....let me begin. 

I met fuckface psychopath through his very wealthy cousin who was a good friend of mine; I met said cousin through a group of friends that I had known and trusted for years and even though they led me to the back-ass woods (empty beach town) of Westerly, Rhode Island I trusted them. Well, fuck me amirite? because I should have known better. Cousin was a cool dude, but fuckface? Nah, he was cool at first...and when I ended up in a dire circumstance he offered me a place to stay--which I took because WOW thank you. This will only be temporary. Almost two years of temporary apparently.  

While I was living there I went through a lot but here I want to focus on the really strange things only, not the mind of an abusive delusional psychopath. Within the first couple of months I'd begun to notice little things. My stuff had begun going missing little by little, and as it was feminine things I noticed that were going missing i naturally blamed the idiot's mother. When I confronted her about it, she naturally denied it and things were tense. Not only this isolated incident either, no this happened A LOT. We were constantly arguing, and then finally something of actual value disappeared so I started asking my abuser. He denied it. 

Weird. Am I going crazy? I'll just buy another one.

The room we stayed in was near the attic, it was up at the top of the staircase and god it was fucking COLD all the time. NO matter what we tried to do, it was FREEEEEZING cold. Bitter cold in the winters. I always thought that was strange. 

Then I'd started feeling like I was being watched....I know how that fucking sounds too because the other members of the house made it very clear that I was clearly the CRAZY one and out of line, ALL the time. But I'm not this type of paranoid wreck that I was in THAT house. I have anxiety, yes. But wow, no, something is watching me bro and I am not cool with it. As more time went on, I would constantly find myself talking to nothing; I would say things like, I'm just passing through or please leave me alone. It was very uncomfortable to live this way. Especially while showering, or dressing. Nothing ever truly felt private. 

Sometimes when  I was home alone, I would swear I hear whispering but it was always incoherent. Sometimes I would hear it when everyone was home, they would be in the next room and say they never said anything. Sometimes they would be sleeping and I would hear it. It was unnerving. It made the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stand on end CONSTANTLY like static electricity. I always felt so cold, and god so many times I had goosebumps all up and down my arms. 

The straw that broke the camel's back though (LOL! CAMEL FACE!) was when I was home one night, locked in the attic as was per the usual when everyone left me home, and I was tapping on the keys of my computer. I heard something clear as day but I can't remember what it was. I just remember stopping what I was doing and looking around. I called out for fuckface thinking he was home, but he never answered. I climbed through the messy as fuck attic mess (the attic of a packrat is a disturbing place, I wonder what their minds look like....) and I looked out the window to find that the  cars were all gone from the drive way. Then, climbing back down I looked through the hole in the floor by my bed (for my computer wires) and I didn't see anything. But what I heard will stay with me for the rest of my fucking life. 


"Shhh.....she's listening." 

WHAT. Uh no. FUCK no in fact. I wanted out. The windows unfortunately did not open so I was stuck in THAT room for the rest of the night until people came home. But you bet your ass I packed as much of my personal belongings as I could and I started networking online to be relieved of that situation. The more people that knew about what was happening to me in that place, meant the more freedom I would gain, it was time to put my oppressor under the spotlight and to break my chains. Eventually, I did, as I am no longer with that idiot.....but, it was certainly already terrifying and traumatic enough without adding the living on top of the dead in that house. THAT house, is evil and haunted. Fuckface and his mother are MESSED up swamp people that came into money somehow. This was truly, one of the most terrifying places I had ever been in my life for so long. I was scared for my life every day for a while, til I was gone. 

Looking back on a picture of the house now, and talking about it, gave me a sick feeling--but I hope it at least made a good ghost story in time for the season. Happy Fall! 

still have more planned too, no computer yet, but soon! If you blink youll miss it, so stay tuned!

Alright fam, 

Love YOU! Stay tight! Stay Real! Be YOU!

Welcome to the ghoul fam xo *~Danii_Grimm~*

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Blog Post #16: Real Life Ghost Story

This blog I wanted to get a little spooky so I figured I would delve head first into some very spooky personal  experiences I have had for the next few weeks. This week I'd like to talk about an experience I had on the O'odham reservation seven years ago. Going to preface this with the fact that I am not a tribal member, and for those of you who have followed me here from my social medias--you know I am very much Caucasian. That being said, I AM very much married to a Native American man, but no, he is not O'odham, he is Apache. However, he DID work for a school on the O'odham reservation for a very long time. He was hired on as one thing and ended up doing many things for the school, and that would sometimes mean that I would be picking him up very late (sometimes around 9/10 pm our time). We only had one vehicle at the time, and it was very temperamental. Out of the maybe 10 months we owned the thing, it ran a total of 3 of those months, THAT is how shitty the car was. It was a lemon if I ever saw one, and it was sold to us under Arizona law by a dealership that later repossessed the piece of shit. But that is a story for another time.

This night, I had the Nissan Altima because I needed it to run errands all day while my husband worked, and now it was time to pick him up.

We lived in a very nice home in Maricopa at the time; something that we moved into pretty recently. Maricopa is about a thirty minute drive to where I had to pick my husband up. Up through the maze of
neighborhoods, out of town on one fatal strip of pitch black highway, and then down a pitch black road that would eventually lead me to the school he worked at. All in the dark, which I actually don't mind most of the time. The dark is peaceful, there aren't many people out at these hours, and the desert has a way of opening the sky up like a fishbowl experience. If you are out of the city light pollution it's a super spectacular mural of twinkling balls of light. Something I had never experienced back East where I am from, so am still in awe of to this day. If you're ever not in the city, look up, what do you see?

So after getting my little tiny infant ready for my ride, packing her a finally allowed myself a little music while I drove. I usually have too much anxiety to allow music when I'm driving alone, so it was off the entire time so I could listen for my daughter. So now,  I was pumping Slash's self titled album on the way, because there are quite a few songs on there that I enjoy--even though it was from my husband's album collection.
diaper bag, and heading out the door--I strapped her safely into her tiny
car seat, made sure she was comfortable and a few minutes later we were on our way. I didn't stop anywhere, I went directly out of town onto John Wayne Parkway and took it several miles down to Riggs road where I would usually turn onto Riggs Road towards the school. My daughter was sleeping in the back, she was a calm baby who rarely cried and she wasn't making any noise.

Singing along to the music, I started to drum badly on the steering wheel. The only lights in front of me were far away, and in front of a medical facility. The only other lights on the road were my headlights. Suddenly though, I felt real uneasy. The hair on my neck and arms was standing up but I wasn't cold. I chalked it up to anxiety fucking with me because I was driving on an endless road to my husband and

 I grew up in a town where everything was literally fifteen minutes away. Then I saw him standing there. I blinked a few times as a few things went through my mind. One, I had an infant in the back seat and I couldn't swerve to the right because I would kill us both and harm the vehicle. Two, why was he just standing there? And finally, go left, go left!!!!!!! So I jerked the wheel left and ended up in the break down lane of the other side of the road, but I swore I hit that man. 

I parked the car, my heart was racing. I looked around while I was calling my husband's phone then I noticed it. A small memorial was erected nearby, the candles lit and flickering inside their small glass prisons. I looked all around and locked the car doors. I checked on my daughter in the back, and she was sleeping soundly, and when my husband answered the phone I explained what happened. I told him I was shaken. He calmed me down, and then I started towards him again. A few cars had passed in this time, so I figured it was fine. I was fine. I hadn't felt anything hit the car, but I KNEW I drove through that man. Then it hit me. The dead here are confused, and they cannot die or be harmed. I drove faster.

When I got to my husband I had him drive, we drove the same way even though I was nervous. It wasn't til we were safe at home that my husband explained to me that wasn't the first time that spirit had been seen especially in that area. There are a lot of accidents caused by him, and he was glad we were safe. I can still remember his vacant staring face, and thinking to myself--what the fuck are you standing there for? Apparently the erected memorial nearby was his, and sometimes he runs out in the road and causes the accidents. For me though, it just seemed like a very unhappy man, standing in the road. Either way, still gives me goosebumps to think about.


Hope you all enjoyed this real story from my life, as are most of the stories on here. More to come I swear, I just want to make sure what I write is not too terrifying or questionable. Don't need to cause any nightmares LOL! No but in all seriousness, do any of you have any spooky stories to share? DM them to me on twitter and I would gladly read them, perhaps I could make a short story based off of it or something, because I'm planning on doing a short scary story every week til Halloween is over and I would love ideas or just plain old feedback! Wondering about that slash album I mentioned earlier? GOOD. It's amazing, check it out here: ~>

still have more planned too, no computer yet, but soon! If you blink youll miss it, so stay tuned!

Alright fam, 

Love YOU! Stay tight! Stay Real! Be YOU!

Welcome to the ghoul fam xo *~Danii_Grimm~*

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Blog Post #15: An Educational Rant on Renting in Flagstaff

Im sitting in the laundromat typing this weekend and oddly enough the low humming whirring of the machines is relaxing. More relaxing then my house currently is, and that is an understatement. Even as I'm being shook back and fourth on a table between two running washers surrounded entirely by the strangers that are my Flagstaff neighbors, I am for the moment relaxed. My wash is done, and my four loads for the month are currently being dried-let's see WHAT I can get accomplished in forty minutes before I have to stick my clothes in a bag and lug them home in a taxi. 

Believe it or not I dont live very far from my laundromat, and contrary to popular belief-I do NOT prefer to do this, and yes I KNOW it's not exactly the most frugal way to get it done. But it works for us, and in the end isnt that what truly matters? The balance of oneself and their family? Anyhow, I like it here.

I get to get away from that house. That one weve been living in for six months. The horror house. Lol! Okay, Im being dramatic, but not overly so and I'll explain a bit just, oh my god that house. Anyway, I digress...

We have done our laundry this way since we moved to Flagstaff from Phoenix two years ago. For a long time we rented a room (yes a room) at a motel on a weekly basis because Flagstaff rentals are completely fucked. Between the college students and the rich as hell second home owners (yes i said second) the economy is fucked to high hell and if you don't believe me or need further proof, read this (Here).

The hotel didn't have laundry machines available to us, so we would haul everything in a taxi to the nearest place when the month was up. Its the same now, only we live closer to the place than before, not that it matters, we still gotta cab it.

Why not get a washer and dryer? I had them when we had a house. When life no longer allowed that convenience, I sold them and life moved on. So, so did we. Why not get one now that were in a house? Well, one our crummy as hell, piece of shit, no good, asshole landlord took ours out and never reinstalled it again. So we CAN'T have one. On top of that, when time comes for us to move to Colorado in six months, I DO NOT want to be hauling that shit through two states. I don't think anyone in their right mind would. Im in love with my material possessions, but trust me, the washer and dryer and I are cool. I'm good with waiting. Besides, once I settle some place worthwhile, won't it be awesome when I can get a really nice pair from Sears or some shit?

Hey, Danii jeez, lay off-the guy can't be all THAT bad, don't you preach positivity? I do, and shame on me. But everyone is human, and man this guy is my weakness. Now, weve reached the point of the blog where Im going to delve into the true horror, that is my home on thend of the alleyway but where to begin?

Well, for starters, the whole outside of my house has zero panneling. All of the boards are either off, and there is just bare looking plyboard in its place, OR, and bless the little hearts of whomever did this but, it is tagged by local graffiti artists--but not in any sort of great or artistic way. It is an eyesore. To say it needs a paint job, is the understatement of the century!

It needs a whole fricken makeover. There are bars on some of my windows, not all of them. Some of them have broken double panes that "cant be replaced" because the "company who made them went out of business thirty years ago." Yeah, it's time to upgrade and get with the times bro wtf. Speaking of windows, one of my windows is a fake

window. Window on the outside, wall on the inside, and I REALLY wish I was kidding. Not only that, but I think I can physically only open four of the 9/10 that are scattered throughout the house wtf.

On the topic of the lovely aesthetics of my house, there is an entire room outside that our shit landlord supposedly remodeled, with more ply boand what looks like black garbage bags. Yeah, we keep our trash in there. It reeks like the previous methed-out owners pack rabid dogs. No fucking thank you. I don't need that smell on my shit, I don't own a pack of dogs.

And finally, the weeds that adorn our beautiful surroundings in the front, the dog poop covered barren backyard, the jacked up broken ass half metal, half wooden fence HE told US to fix, and the random skewed dead pine stumps with giant spiders. Oh, and my "deck" is stained concrete, stained with what? I dont know, i didn't ask, and frankly I do not WANT to know. By the way Im pretty sure that our gutters are disconnected and that that is not how gutters work, but the giant ass untrimmed tree nearby also smacks the house when a good wind blows, so Im pretty sure this asshole doesn't care about any of that. Lord only knows what the fricken roof looks like, I haven't been up there. It's not my problem, it's his.                                                                                           

Now, let me paint you a picture of the inside of my house.

My "room" is actually supposed to to be my living room, but in this house we don't have a living room. The reason why, is when we moved in last March, for lack of better words we were desperate. Desperate for a home, for space and room to grow. Living in a hotel room for months, will do that to you by the way. That, being said, I wanna state that I asked the landlord before if there were any bugs. He swore up and down there were none, and I have a colossal and

legitimate fear of any bug. Even the pretty/cool ones, Id rather watch them from afar please, oh no, im good. Admiring them from over here makes my skin prickle, the hair on my airs and neck will stand up, and im not kidding you--I will feel those things crawling on me from across the room. No, no, just no! Burrrrrn it with fire! So I took his word. He even had a local man, which by the way local does not mean good or thorough necessarily, come in and spray for bugs so for that moment in time my mind was at ease. When we moved in, it was a very different story. Not only did his haggard as fuck ass lie, but the master bedroom is crawling with lil carpet monsters.

Oh my fucking god, im in hell! After abandoning ship, and making sure nothing was put into that room-the police line was drawn, tape in place. The cracks were salted and the carpet burned. Oh okay not that ast one, but it turns out we share the home with a bunch of house mites. That room smells like pack of dogs from earlier, so he didnt replace the carpet or the padding and he's a lying piece of shit who can burn in fucking hell. Did we treat it? Of course! But those lil shits are resilient and I fucking refuse at this point. Repeatedly weve treated that room, but the shit needs to be replaced it's beyond lost to us.

My daughter's room is a glorified walk-in closet. It has one fucking outlet and its not grounded. The back light, chooses when it will work, and there is absolutely NO insulation. Thankfully, the rest of the house is relatively bug free save for a couple of sugar ants here and there or I would have completely abandoned ship, and just found another place somewhere else.

The miniscule one-person bathroom has a small sink, a one person stand-up shower, and the toilet is directly behind the door. Legit you are getting smashed in the knees or the face if you're the unfortunate soul who is sitting down when someone else enters. Occupied! Occupied!

The kitchen is next to our bedroom and is medium sized. It gives us a lovely view of the alleyway where homeless men like to sleep, eat, do drugs, break things, etc. I have a fucking stove from 1970s that is gas, but only the top burners work. The oven on this little sucker isn't allowed to be lit. It was red flagged by the city gas company, that idiot "fixed" it, it was red flagged again, and he just said fuck it. So I use a convection oven and a microwave. The fridge when we got here was absolutely appalling! There 👏 were 👏 dog 👏 hairs 👏 in 👏the 👏fucking 👏 gaskets👏. It was GROSS. But I cleaned it, and it broke a month later. So the fridge here is mine, and I am definitely hauling THAT away, if nothing else then out of pure spite.

Now that I've given you a verbal tour, let me list a few other things wrong with the place that I just cant get over...

The porch light and doorbell have legit NEVER once worked, and we live in a bad area. The fence is broken in several spots. The mailbox (because we are a B unit) is out front where our address has us listed but there is a second house in the back that noone sees because of said fence. I have to literally go around the block to  check my mail. There is heat but it doesn't disperse around the house right, and there are definitely cold spots. There's no air conditioning. The entire house has been slowly sinking into the Arizona ground over this six months. It feels like the tub is slanted, but its not my problem.

None of it is MY problem, because in six months I'll be free of the worst anxiety inducing investment I have ever made, and we are on to bigger and better things.

Peace out Flagstaff, it's been a nice learning experience. Though, it's not the place that is horrible itself. No. Its surroundings are breathtaking! But life is hard to live because of the people sometimes. And fuck that guy, this place is his problem the minute Im packed up and out the door. Freedom will never have felt so good!

still have more planned too, if you blink youll miss it, so stay tuned!

Alright fam, 

Love YOU! Stay tight! Stay Real! Be YOU!

Welcome to the ghoul fam xo *~Danii_Grimm~*

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